


Season's Greetings

by quentintarrantino



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 11:10:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quentintarrantino/pseuds/quentintarrantino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alone, they would rather see him alone than now, like this. He sees it in their faces when he tells them about James, how he stares each and every single one of his family members down and his mother does not stand to greet him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Season's Greetings

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't seen any fic like this so I decided to write it, Q's family is hesitant to accept that their son is gay and that he has elected to bring Mr. Bond home.  
> Also, listen to [this song](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ane-7DpgJJg) because it's truly a beautiful one and I wrote this fic to it so it enhances the reading experience. Maybe that's just me.

_Bring us back a nice girl to fawn over dear._ The words echo in his head as a trail of smoke mixed with frozen breath escape his lips outside the doorstep. Bond shifts beside him as they hear footsteps on the other side.  _Bring us back your future bride, we worry about you._  This was a mistake, the worst mistake he’d made in a very long time but it was too late to turn back now, James’s chin was jutted up and he looked his very best despite being dressed casually in a Christmas jumper.

The door opens to reveal a young woman, her eyes are an exact replica of Q’s and Bond sees it immediately. Her gaze falls first on the man she’s familiar with opposite and embraces him. They stand at identical height and everything down to the nose is correct, his sister, he hasn’t seen her in two years.

_Bring us back someone we will love just as you love._  He feels sick because he knows she knows, he can spy it in the way her mouth drops just a tad when she looks at him. This wasn’t what they had expected, his cigarette is dangerously close to burning his hand.

He introduces himself but by then the battle is lost before it can begin, her gaze is hooded just the same as the others will be. His sweater is too itchy, he wants nothing more to rip it off and run away like a child with Bond in pursuit, to run back to MI6, or ship themselves away on a mission because he understands that world better than this. His long fingers wind around Bond’s callused ones and they step inside.

His family has not called him by his given name since he left for University. There was no need to speak his name because he never really came back after that. He didn’t have a name anymore, it was stripped from him. Even his sister called him Q when announcing their arrival. His mother sat tall and proud in the corner in her fancy chair.  _I don’t like seeing you so alone darling._  Alone, they would rather see him alone than now, like this. He sees it in their faces when he tells them about James, how he stares each and every single one of his family members down and his mother does not stand to greet him.

A girl. They wanted a girl and he has even failed them in this way. Instead of going out and playing football he was working on his scrabble score, he studied computers and technology instead of mathematics, and now he has soiled it all by committing the worst tragedy of all. Shame burns his cheeks and then anger at the fact that he feels shame, what has he done?

They don’t call him by his real name. They don’t even call him Q. They don’t say anything. The pair is out the door twenty minutes later; James hasn’t said anything as a furiously blinking Q drags him back down the steps.  His eyes are somber and it occurs to the younger man that jumpers aren’t his style at all. Focusing on minute details helps as he fights tears, watching London pass by in the cab.

The flat is crisp and cold as they push the door open, Q begins to peel off his clothing, the nice coat he bought for tonight. How stupid he had been to think that this would’ve gone over well. Bond watches from the doorway as Q’s arms get tangled in the jumper and he begins to thrash, his fit subsiding in the form of sobs that overcome him. When he sinks to the floor 007 sits with him as he rocks himself back and forth, wiping his face, ashamed.

_It will pass sweetie, trust me. When I see you next I know you’ll have found yourself a beautiful woman._ His mother had urged him, she was concerned. No more bringing back roommates from school, friends weren’t acceptable and the question was pressing into his chest like a knife. Q examines his cigarette from the glow of the Christmas tree stationed sadly in the corner of the flat he and Bond share. A few shoddily wrapped gifts accompany it and he looks at them, James’s wrapping skills are far below par as demonstrated with the shaky ribbon knot and oddly cut paper. Music sublime and sweet ebbs and flows submerging him in his thoughts.

He hadn’t found himself a girl, far from it, James Bond was no woman. But Q looked at the situation in the analytical way he did and concluded that perhaps he had done himself one step better. Surely a secret agent was a notch above any plain old woman he could’ve run into at the Tesco? Squashing the butt against the wall as was his nasty habit and flicking it outside he made his way back to their bedroom.

He was already sleeping, peacefully wrapped in blankets to fight away the chill as Q gets in beside him.  _Give me some more grandchildren._ His sister had been the star of the family for as long as he could remember, clever but not too clever and sociable. She had divvied up two little boys in an acceptable time period for their mother to fawn over and had married a nice man. She had a beautiful home and he hated her for it more than he knew. Bond’s muscles tightened momentarily to wind around his small frame and he feels lips on his shoulder. He had failed, in the eyes of his family he was a disgrace and he wondered if being a disgrace always felt so fulfilling.

Tomorrow he’d awake to the sound of breakfast cooking, his Earl Grey tea in his mug and a kiss awaiting his lips from Bond, he’d open his hastily wrapped presents and they would spend the morning walking around aimlessly outside complaining about the pigeons and the cold as was tradition. It seemed he could live with knowing he had let his mother down so long as Bond wasn’t going anywhere soon. They’d cheerfully throw out every single Christmas jumper 007 owned and when the day was over he’d still be right here.

_My only wish is for you to be happy._ Her words rang in his ears as he closed his eyes and snuggled deeper into the mattress.

_Wish granted._


End file.
